-NRLF 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


STARVED  ROCK 
LEGENDARY 

BY 

HELEN  MARTIN  DONOVAN 


The  O'Donnell  Printing  Company 

Chicago,  I  Illinois 

1915 


Copyright,  March,  1915 
by  Helen  Martin  Donovan 


<  FOREWORD 


)LOMI ,  the  daughter 
of  an  Illini  Chief, 
lived  more  than  a 
century  and  a  half 
ago,  when  The  Rock 
was  young  in  history. 

The  tale  of  "Dave  and  Mary" 
relates  the  actual  occurrences 
in  the  lives  of  those  two  in- 
teresting personages  at  that 
historic  spot,  but  twenty  years 
last  past. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


M313225 


Lolomi  of  the  Illinois 

A  Legend  of 
Lover's  Leap 


Lolomi  of  the  Illinois 

JN  THE  Indian  Village  Back  in 
the  Woods  dwelt  a  tribe  of  the 
peaceful  Illinois.  The  Chief's 
daughter,  Lolomi,  was  idolized  by  all 
because  of  her  lovableness  and  beau- 
ty. This  particular  evening  Chief 
Blackhawk  called  his  daughter  to  him. 
"Lolomi,"  he  tenderly  said,  "my  Sun- 
set of  Life  is  nearing  and  it  is  my 
earnest  wish  that  you  wed  Uncas,  son 
of  Chief  Chassagoac." 

Caressingly  Lolomi  laid  her  head 
upon  her  father's  arm  and  said  sim- 


"  I  love  him,  father.  " 

Slowly  the  old  chief  stroked  her 
smooth  black  hair  and  ran  his  fingers 
lovingly  down  the  long  black  braids. 

'  '  Today  he  will  come,  my  daughter, 
and  the  wedding  shall  be  planned.  '  ' 


10  LOLOMI    OF    THE    ILLINOIS 

With  his  arm  placed  about  Lolomi, 
Chief  Blackhawk  gently  led  her  down 
the  trail,  which  wound  its  way  down  to 
the  river.  They  reached  the  water's 
edge  and  sank  down  to  rest  and  medi- 
tate. Together  they  watched  the  great, 
restless  expanse  of  water.  Behind 
them  stretched  the  dense,  interminable 
forest ;  from  a  nearby  ravine  came  the 
sad  wail  of  the  whippoor-will.  The 
closing  day  about  them  was  like  a  sol- 
emn benediction.  A  slight  rustling  of 
the  branches  and  Chief  Chassagoac 
and  his  son,  Uncas,  stood  before  them. 

These  two  old  chiefs  had  long  been 
bosom  friends.  Years  had  they 
planned  that  their  respective  tribes 
would  be  united  through  the  marriage 
of  Uncas  and  Lolomi. 

After  greetings  the  two  old  chiefs 
walked  back  to  Blackhawk  ?s  village, 
leaving  the  lovers  alone. 

Side  by  side  they  sat  on  the  branch 
of  a  fallen  tree,  and  at  last  Uncas 
broke  the  silence. 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  11 

"Lolomi,  I  am  going  away,  but  I 
shall  return  at  the  half-moon  and 
make  you  iny  bride." 

" Going  away?"  questioned  Lolomi, 
as  though  she  had  not  heard  aright. 

"Yes,  I  am  going  to  the  village  of 
Chicagou.  I  start  at  sunrise.  Come, 
and  I  will  show  you  my  canoe.  At 
break  of  day,  following  the  half -moon, 
and  as  its  first  lights  break  over  the 
forests,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  densely 
covered  hills,  "you  may  watch  for  me 
as  I  come  down  the  stream." 

With  a  troubled  look,  she  turned 
away. 

"Lolomi,  you  must  not  doubt  me. 
Come." 

Together  they  followed  the  trail  up 
along  the  river.  On  its  bank  lay  his 
canoe. 

"Here  is  my  canoe;  on  its  bow  I 
painted  a  half-moon  and  star.  This 
signifies  that  at  the  half -moon  I  shall 
return  to  you.  The  star  is  the  morn- 
ing star — the  morning  of  our  happi- 


12  LOLOMI  OP  THE  ILLINOIS 

ness ;  that  morning  we  shall  wed.  The 
tribe  of  Chief  Blackhawk,  your  father, 
and  Chief  Chassagoac,  my  father,  shall 
be  as  one." 

From  the  distant  woods  came  the 
lone  call  of  the  whippoor-will.  Lolomi 
trembled  in  her  lover's  arms. 

"I'll  be  just  that  lonely  without  you, 
Uncas ;  think  of  me  when  you  hear  its 
call  and  hasten  your  return." 

'  6  Fear  not,  my  loved  one,  for  I  shall 
think  always  of  you.  I  must  go  now. 
Come  to  the  cliff  in  the  morning  and 
bid  me  farewell." 

Fondly  he  pressed  her  to  him,  and 
springing  into  the  canoe,  was  soon  lost 
in  the  darkening  stream  beyond. 

The  following  morning  the  village 
of  Kaskaskia  was  astir  long  before 
daydawn,  preparing  the  chief's  son  for 
his  journey,  while  up  the  river  a  few 
miles,  on  the  summit  of  the  great 
Eock,  stood  Lolomi  eagerly  watching. 
She  had  waited  near  the  river  bank, 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  13 

but  knowing  she  could  see  him  com- 
ing sooner  from  the  rock  she  had 
climbed  to  the  very  top.  The  cool 
October  air  blew  about  her.  The  new- 
born sun  crept  slowly  above  the  dis- 
tant hills,  lighting  the  dense  forest  of 
red  and  gold  and  bringing  more  clear- 
ly to  the  vision  of  Lolomi  the  wonder- 
ful painting  of  the  Master's  hand.  Her 
small  brown  hands  were  locked  to- 
gether as  though  silently  pleading  to 
the  Great  Spirit  to  aid  her  departing 
lover  and  grant  his  safe  return  at  the 
half-moon. 

Breathlessly  she  watched  the  silvery 
stream  and  at  last  Uncas  appeared  in 
the  distance.  Turning  she  fled  down 
the  steep  stone  steps  and  eagerly 
reached  the  river's  edge. 

"Yes,  there  is  the  half -moon  and 
star  on  the  canoe's  bow — our  morning 
star,"  she  murmured.  Up  the  mid- 
stream Uncas  rowed,  waving  a  fare- 
well as  he  went.  A  sob  fell  from  her 
lips  as  the  small  canoe  disappeared  in 


14  LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS 

the  bend  of  the  river.  "Why  did  he 
not  stop,"  she  thought. 

Sadly  she  passed  up  the  old  trail, 
which  wended  its  way  to  The  Indian 
Village  Back  in  the  Woods.  The  birds ' 
early  chatter,  the  squirrels  frisking 
about,  an  occasional  deer  fleeing  from 
her  and  the  glorious  beauties  of  moth- 
er nature,  whom  she  loved  so,  seemed 
lost  upon  her  now.  Her  heart  was 
heavy.  Some  coming  events  seemed 
to  ' '  cast  their  shadows  before. ' '  Dully 
she  reached  the  village. 

Indian  chiefs  and  squaws  moved 
about.  At  sight  of  her  father  she 
forced  herself  to  be  cheerful. 

"My  daughter,  you  are  happy,"  he 
querried. 

"Yes,  father,  but  Uncas  has  just 
gone  and  I  am  lonely. ' ' 

He  wrapped  his  arm  about  her  and 
said: 

"You  have  these  days  to  prepare  for 
the  most  memorable  event  of  a  life- 
time and  you  have  not  a  moment  for 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  15 

sadness.  These  days  shall  be  filled 
with  pleasure  for  my  daughter." 

She  slipped  away  to  her  teepee  and 
threw  herself  amongst  her  blankets. 

Happy  little  Indian  children  romped 
about  in  the  village. 

"Lolomi!  Oh,  let's  get  Lolomi!" 
they  chorused. 

To  her  teepee  they  ran,  loudly  call- 
ing her  name.  She  was  their  idol.  Lo- 
lomi — all  happiness — all  love. 

Hearing  their  approach,  she  quickly 
stepped  without,  and  hiding  her 
troubled  thoughts  she  joined  the 
merry  children. 

"Come,  Lolomi,  to  the  canyon  and 
tell  us  again  the  story  of  the  Devil's 
claw  prints  in  the  stone." 

Small  brown  Hands  clasped  hers  and 
up  into  the  canyon  they  went.  Soon 
her  doubts  were  at  rest.  Chattering 
happy  little  ones,  the  beautiful,  restful 
scenes  about  her  and,  forgetting  all 
else,  she  began  again  the  story  of 
"The  Devil's  Claw  Prints." 


16  LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS 

"Once  upon  a  time,  long,  long  ago, 
an  evil  spirit  with  great  wicked  claws 
roamed  about  in  this  peaceful  valley, 
terrifying  little  children  like  you  all. 
In  vain  did  your  forefathers  plead 
with  the  good  spirits  to  overpower 
this  monster.  He  lived  in  this  very 
cany  on, "  and  Lolomi's  voice  sank  to  a 
frightened  whisper  in  order  that  she 
might  more  strongly  impress  her  fas- 
cinated listeners.  With  horrified  ex- 
pressions they  crept  more  closely  to 
her. 

"Yes,"  she  repeated,  "he  lived 
right  here.  He  never  troubled  older 
people  because  he  knew  too  well  that 
they  would  shoot  him  with  an  arrow, 
and  so  he  kept  far  away  from  them. 
One  day  a  little  boy  disappeared  and 
the  whole  village  turned  out  and 
searched  the  woods  for  him. 

Canyons,  ravines,  tall  prairie  grass 
and  the  river  bank  were  searched  time 
and  again,  but  always  they  returned 
with  the  same  answer.  After  that  chil- 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  17 

dren  were  more  afraid  than  ever  to  go 
out  of  sight  of  the  lodges;  they  could 
never  wander  about  in  all  these  beau- 
tiful woods  nor  gather  the  pretty  flow- 
ers, nor  wade  in  the  cool  streams,  nor 
climb  the  high  rocks — and  oh,  scarcely 
anything  could  they  do.  And  then  one 
night,  what  do  you  think,  the  angry 
Storm  Spirit  strode  forth  and  with  a 
mighty  wave  of  his  hand  struck  this 
huge  monster  and  hurled  him  down 
into  this  very  canyon.  His  hideous 
claws  struck  the  stone,  and  right  there 
where  you  see  those  prints  he  was 
found  the  next  morning.  And  over 
there  in  that  cave  the  little  boy  was 
found  and  he  was  all  right,  and  they 
took  him  back  to  the  village  and  a 
great  feast  took  place  and  every  one 
was  happy. ' ' 

They  clapped  their  hands  and 
coaxed  Lolomi  to  tell  legend  after 
legend. 

Days  passed  by  and  this  eventful 
evening  found  Lolomi  alone  on  the 


18  LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS 

prodigious  rock.  Once  more  she  was 
herself.  The  clear,  bright  half-moon 
stood  out  in  the  sky  above. 

"In  the  morning,"  she  murmured 
happily,  "he  will  return." 

The  call  of  the  whippoor-will  did 
not  trouble  her  now.  She  was  not 
alone,  for  surely  in  spirit  Uncas  was 
with  her.  The  Great  Spirit  had 
watched.  Uncas  would  return  with 
the  rising  of  the  sun,  she  thought,  in 
keeping  with  the  custom  of  her  people 
in  choosing  the  day  dawn  as  the 
charmed  time  for  initiating  all  their 
important  undertakings. 

At  dawning  Lolomi  parted  the  cur- 
tains of  her  tent  and  crept  out.  Down 
the  long  rows  of  teepees  she  passed 
until  the  trail  to  the  Rock  was  reached. 
The  woods  about  were  silent  as  the 
tomb.  On  she  fled.  Her  small,  san- 
dled  feet  seemed  scarce  to  touch  the 
ground.  Up  the  steep,  craggy  steps 
she  sprang  to  the  summit  of  the  rock. 
Nearly  to  the  edge  she  went  in  her 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  19 

eager  expectation,  for  was  this  not  her 
wedding  morning?  Had  they  not  made 
all  preparations  in  the  village  for  her 
happy,  solemn  event?  Shading  her 
eyes  from  the  early  sun's  rays,  she 
eagerly  scanned  the  up-stream.  Round 
the  wooded  island  came  a  canoe. 

"Uncas,  my  beloved,"  she  breathed, 
and  raising  her  eyes  she  thanked  the 
Great  Spirit  for  her  lover's  safe  re- 
turn. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  canoe. 
She  watched  for  the  half-moon  and 
star  on  its  bow.  Her  heart  beat  madly. 
In  her  ecstacy  she  seemed  scarce  to 
breathe.  Dangerously  near  the  edge 
of  the  cliff  she  moved.  Now  she  was 
able  to  discern  the  details.  It  was  not 
the  canoe.  The  half-moon  and  star 
were  missing.  Uncas  had  had  some 
misshap  and  had  taken  another  canoe, 
that  he  might  not  disappoint  her.  And 
then — what  was  the  matter  with  her? 
Had  her  great  joy  turned  to  madness? 


20  LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS 

Uncas  looked  strange.  A  voice  from 
below  called  to  her. 

"I  bring  you  a  message,"  the 
strange  voice  called. 

" Where  is  Uncas?" 

"When  you  come  down  I  shall  tell 
you, ' '  he  answered,  as  he  rowed  to  the 
water's  edge  and  sprang  to  the  bank. 
She  reached  his  side  and  repeated 
painfully. 

"Where  is  Uncas  I" 

He  did  not  answer. 

"When  will  he  return?"  she  ques- 
tioned, unheeding  his  silence. 

"He  will  never  come  back,"  he 
whispered  with  bowed  head. 

She  stared  at  him  for  a  moment. 
Then  slowly  repeated  his  words, 
"Never  come  back." 

At  sight  of  the  anguish  written  in 
the  depths  of  her  eyes,  the  young 
brave  felt  he  could  not  tell  her  more. 
A  child-woman  she  seemed.  A  doe 
nearing  the  water  for  a  drink  glanced, 
and  with  a  frightened,  sad  look  in  its 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  21 

eyes,  turned  and  fled.  Lolomi  turned 
once  more  to  the  bearer  of  sad  tidings. 

"He — is — dead?"  Her  lips  seemed 
scarce  to  form  the  words. 

"No,"  he  said,  "he  sent  me  with  the 
message  that  he  had  wed  another  and 
would  never  return  to  The  Indian  Vil- 
lage Back  in  the  Woods. ' ' 

' '  He  —  has  —  wed  —  another, ' '  she 
faintly  gasped,  and  into  her  eyes 
sprang  the  same  frightened  look  he 
had  just  seen  in  the  eyes  of  the  doe. 
She  swayed  as  though  about  to  fall.  He 
hurried  to  her  side.  In  an  instant  she 
regained  her  strength  and,  turning, 
she  fled  like  a  mountain  lioness  up  the 
steep  stone  steps.  Intuitively  he 
guessed  her  meaning  and  sprang  after 
her. ,  To  the  edge  of  the  cliff  she  ran. 
Beaching  her,  he  struggled  to  prevent 
her  leaping  into  the  waters  far  below. 

Back  to  the  village  he  half  carried 
her.  At  sight  of  his  daughter  and 
after  learning  the  young  brave  *s  story, 
Chief  Blackhawk  took  the  broken- 


22  LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS 

hearted  child  in  his  arms,  and  thank- 
ing the  messenger  for  saving  her  he 
turned  away. 

In  awe-stricken  groups  squaws  gos- 
siped. All  preparations  for  the  wed- 
ding which  was  expected  to  take  place 
that  morning  were  forgotten  in  this 
new-found  sorrow  of  their  beloved 
Lolomi. 

4  4  My  daughter,  I  would  willingly  lay 
down  my  life  could  I  have  spared  you 
this  sorrow,  but  it  was  written  in  your 
destiny  and  none  could  prevent  it. 
You  will  forget.  Youth  and  beauty 
will  help  you." 

Leaving  her  in  tender  care,  the 
broken  old  chief  walked  slowly  away 
into  the  deep  forest,  there  alone  to 
resign  himself  to  his  daughter's  sor- 
row and  his  own  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. 

Each  morning  a  guard  watched  Lo- 
lomi. Well  they  knew  that  only  at 
the  rising  of  the  sun  would  she  at- 


LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS  23 

tempt  her  frightful  leap  from  the  rock. 
Could  she  not  then  succeed,  patient- 
ly she  would  wait  for  the  following 
morning.  Weary  days  passed.  Days 
whose  early  mornings  found  'Lolomi 
watching  and  whose  loving  guard 
closely  followed. 

"She  will  forget,"  said  Chief 
Blackhawk. 

"To  the  South  for  the  winter  we 
shall  soon  go  and  she  will  forget," 
sadly  repeated  his  friend,  Chief  Chas- 
sagoac. 

But  Lolomi  did  not  forget,  and  one 
morning  she  eluded  the  guard  and  fled 
to  the  summit  of  the  massive  rocik  and 
hurled  herself  into  the  silent,  merci- 
less waters  below.  Closely  behind  fol- 
lowed the  guard,  but  too  late.  Rev- 
erently they  raised  her  from  the  wa- 
ter. She  still  breathed.  They  laid  her 
on  the  river  bank  and  tried  to  revive 
her.  She  slowly  opened  her  dark  eyes 
and  one  word  fell  from  her  lips. 

"Uncas." 


24  LOLOMI  OF  THE  ILLINOIS 

From  The  Indian  Village  Back  in 
the  Woods  two  days  later  a  mournful 
funeral  cortege  wound  its  way,  headed 
by  their  black-robed  friend,  who  had 
come  to  teach  them  the  better  life.  Up 
the  old  trail,  past  deep,  hollow  can- 
yons, cool,  shaded  ravines,  around 
massive  rocks,  back  to  the  Indian 
burying  grounds,  they  were  taking 
away  their  Lolomi — their  bright  ray 
of  love  and  happiness. 

Gently  up  into  the  tree-grave  they 
placed  her,  facing  the  rising  sun,  that 
her  spirit  might  find  its  way.  The  low 
moan  of  the  leaves  above  seemed  to 
sigh  a  parting  requiem  and  the  soul 
of  Lolomi  had  found  its  Happy  Hunt- 
ing Ground. 

In  the  distant  village  of  Chicagou 
Uncas  was  happy  with  his  new-found 
bride. 


Dave  and  Mary 

A  Tale  of 

Starved  Rock 

Twenty  Years 

Ago 


Dave  and  Mary 


years  had  elapsed  since 
Dave  took  employment  on  my 
farm,  and  during  all  that  time 
he  had  worked  faithfully,  never  com- 
plaining of  the  irksomeness  of  his  la- 
bor; but  often  in  his  eyes  I  had  seen 
the  longing  to  be  free.  The  Indian 
blood  came  strongly  to  the  fore  when, 
his  day's  work  done,  he  wandered 
away  among  the  ravines,  canyons  and 
up  the  old  trail  along  the  river's  edge. 
Frequently  I  had  seen  him  roaming 
about  the  spot  where  once  stood  an  In- 
dian village.  There  still  remained  the 
marks  where  stood  the  teepees  of  his 
forefathers,  and  scattered  about  ex- 
posed by  recent  rains  were  pieces  of 
flint  found  useful  by  his  ancestors  in 
the  hunt  or  on  the  warpath.  These 


30  DAVE  AND  MARY 

he  lovingly  gathered  and  put  in  his 
pocket. 

One  day  as  I  was  preparing  to  drive 
to  the  nearest  town  he  came  to  me  and 
said: 

"Mr.  Weymouth,  will  you  please 
bring  a  lady  back  with  you  tonight! 
She  is  coming  from  the  East  on  the 
seven-fifteen  train,  and  it  will  be  too 
dark  for  her  to  walk  out  to  the  cot- 
tage." 

The  request  seemed  a  strange  one, 
but  needless  to  say,  I  readily  assented. 
On  my  way  I  fell  to  wondering  why  a 
lady  was  coming  to  visit  Dave.  He 
was  always  reserved  and  seldom  men- 
tioned his  life  as  spent  previous  to 
coming  to  the  Bock.  He  had  been 
married  for  five  years  and  seemed  de- 
voted to  his  wife  and  two  small  sons. 
That  the  guest  he  expected  must  be  a 
relative  of  his  wife  I  became  con- 
vinced. 

I  arrived  at  the  station.  The  train 
had  come  and  gone.  Looking  about  I 


DAVE  AND  MARY  31 

saw  a  woman  coming  toward  me,  who 
seemed  instinctively  to  know  me  and 
said: 

"You  are  Mr.  Weymouth?" 
"Yes,"  I  answered,  "and  you  are 
the  lady  Dave  expects?" 

Twilight  was  gathering  and  still  I 
felt  a  soft,  wistful  expression  had 
passed  over  her  face  as  she  bent  her 
head  in  reply.  She  did  not  speak  a 
word  during  the  long  trip  back  to  The 
Rock.  From  the  dense  and  almost  in- 
terminable forest  rose  the  moon,  re- 
splendent and  glorious,  and  I  looked 
into  her  face.  She  was  beautiful.  Her 
features  were  small  and  regular.  Her 
face  in  anticipation  wore  a  look  of 
tender  longing.  Soft,  golden-brown 
hair  wreathed  her  features.  Her  eyes 
were  large  and  as  blue  as  the  heavens 
into  which  she  so  silently  gazed.  She 
was  quietly  though  richly  dressed.  It 
seemed  so  strange  that  she  asked  no 
questions.  Every  one  wished  to  know 
of  this  historical  spot  to  which  she  was 


32  DAVE  AND  MARY 

journeying.  She  had  no  trace  of 
the  Indian  blood  in  her  veins  I  was 
satisfied,  but  was  a  gentlewoman  of 
the  white  race. 

We  arrived  at  the  farm  and  I  led  the 
way  up  the  trail  to  the  cottage.  It 
seemed  a  desecration  to  change  her 
train  of  thoughts,  so  we  walked  on  in 
silence.  As  we  neared  French  Canyon 
I  pointed  out  to  her  Dave's  cottage.  It 
stood  side  by  side  with  another  back 
under  the  foot  of  a  hill.  A  dim  light 
shone  from  a  window.  Dave,  his  wife 
and  children  met  us  at  the  door.  With 
a  low  sob  of  happiness  my  late  pas- 
senger threw  herself  into  Dave's 
eager,  outstretched  arms.  Turning,  I 
wended  my  way  thoughtfully  home- 
ward. Down  the  old  trail  I  went  with 
these  thoughts  surging  through  my 
mind.  Who  could  the  woman  be? 
What  relation  did  she  bear  to  Dave? 
Why  was  she  here  ?  That  it  was  prop- 
er for  her  to  visit  them  I  felt  positive, 
for  had  it  not  been,  Dave  ?s  wife  would 


DAVE  AND  MARY  33 

have  objected.  Being  thus  convinced, 
I  turned  my  thoughts  to  other  things. 

The  morning  following  Dave  came 
to  me  and  made  this  simple  request : 

' '  Mr.  Weymouth,  will  you  please  al- 
low my  guest  to  occupy  the  cottage  ad- 
joining ours?" 

"Why  certainly,  Dave,"  I  gladly  as- 
sented, ' '  she  is  most  welcome. ' ' 

Thanking  me,  he  turned  away. 

Later  in  the  day  things  became  more 
serious  when,  on  reaching  the  fields,  to 
find  Dave  and  the  woman  together, 
and  she  was  husking  corn!  She  was 
wearing  a  dress  and  sunbonnet  of 
Dave's  wife,  but  the  homely  garb  did 
not  disguise  her  beauty.  Her  soft, 
well-moulded  hands  and  dainty  man- 
ner spoke  loudly  of  being  unaccus- 
tomed to  such  work. 

Thus  the  days  went  by.  Dave  was 
as  faithful  as  he  had  always  been  and 
every  day  found  the  mysterious 
stranger  by  his  side  in  the  corn  field. 
The  intense  heat  of  the  sun  upon  one 


34  DAVE  AND  MARY 

occasion  caused  her  to  faint  and  it  was 
pathetic  to  see  how  tenderly  the  half- 
breed  restored  her.  He  begged  her  to 
return  to  the  cottage,  but  she  remained 
obdurate  and  once  again  took  up  her 
dreary  task. 

More  than  one  hundred  years  before 
these  happenings  several  tribes  of  the 
Illinois  Indians  had  villages  in  this 
immediate  vicinity.  The  ruins  of  one 
particular  village  interested  me  great- 
ly, and  one  evening,  several  weeks 
after  the  arrival  of  the  stranger,  I 
went  into  a  cool  canyon  nearby  it  to 
rest.  Presently  I  heard  voices  above 
and  recognized  them  as  belonging  to 
Dave  and  his  visitor.  It  seemed  un- 
principled to  remain,  but  I  gave  in  to 
my  curiosity. 

' '  And  there  was  the  home  of  my  an- 
cestors," Dave  was  saying;  " there 
are  still  the  marks  where  their  teepees 
stood,  and  in  daylight  we  shall  go 
there  and  you  can  see  it  all  then.  On 


DAVE  AND  MARY  35 

the  opposite  side  of  the  creek  is  still 
another  part  of  the  village." 

He  continued  to  explain  and  I 
slipped  noiselessly  away. 

The  evening  following  I  wondered 
why  Dave  had  not  returned  at  the 
usual  time  with  the  horses  from  the 
field,  and  set  out  to  look  for  them. 
Twilight  was  fast  falling  and  I  could 
scarce  find  my  way.  To  my  surprise, 
I  came  upon  the  horses,  hitched  to  the 
wagon,  standing  amongst  the  corn 
stalks,  and  a  short  distance  away  in 
the  gathering  shadows  I  saw  two  fig- 
ures. They  were  Dave  and  Mary,  for 
I  had  heard  him  call  her  by  that  name. 
They  were  seated  and  Dave  held  her 
closely  in  his  embrace.  I  was  shocked 
at  such  behavior  on  the  part  of  Dave 
and  spoke  sharply,  questioningly : 

"Dave?" 

He  rose  quickly,  as  did  also  his  com- 
panion. I  asked  her  to  leave  Dave  and 
me  alone.  A  look  of  unutterable  sor- 


36  DAVE  AND  MARY 

row  crossed  Dave's  face  as  Mary 
turned  and  walked  away  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

"Dave,"  I  indignantly  said,  "yon 
must  send  this  lady  away.  To  say  I 
am  bitterly  disappointed  in  you  is  ex- 
pressing it  weakly;  your  first  thought 
should  be  for  your  wife  and  little  boys ; 
it  is  not  fair  that  they  should  suffer 
through  the  gossip  that  will  surely  fol- 
low your  actions  of  the  past  six 
weeks. ' ' 

I  looked  for  some  explanation,  but 
Indian-like,  he  remained  silent. 

"I  have  never  seen  an  unprincipled 
act  done  by  you  since  I've  known  you, 
and  now  you  must  make  your  choice. 9 ' 

In  anguished  words  the  Indian  an- 
swered solemnly,  earnestly: 

"She  shall  go  tonight." 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  a  low  moan 
fell  on  the  stillness  about  us  and  Mary 
came  out  of  the  shadows. 

"Mr.  Weymouth,"  she  pleaded, 
"please  let  me  speak  with  you.  This 


DAVE  AND  MARY  37 

is  not  Dave's  fault;  he  does  not  de- 
serve to  be  reprimanded. ' ' 

Her  voice  was  soft  and  winning, 
and,  well — I  consented. 

Dave  walked  away. 

Down  the  old  trail  Mary  and  I 
walked  until  we  came  to  the  foot  of  the 
great  Eock. 

'  *  Will  you  go  up  there  with  me?" 
she  questioned,  pointing  to  the  summit 
far  above  us. 

Up  its  steep  craggy  side  we  climbed 
until  the  top  was  reached. 

Seated  on  a  fallen  tree  she  turned 
her  face  wistfully  to  the  newly  rising 
moon.  Its  shimmery  light  fell  caress- 
ingly on  the  deep  forest,  the  ever- 
shaded  ravines,  the  hollow  canyons 
and  the  silently  flowing  body  of  water 
below  us.  The  spot  seemed  to  give  her 
courage  and  she  began : 

"Mr.  Weymouth,  have  you  ever  in 
your  life  loved  another?  Oh,"  she  said 
impatiently,  "not  for  a  day  nor  a  year, 
but  as  long  as  you  can  remember;  one 


DAVE  AND  MARY 


who  was  an  inspiration,  in  whose  pres- 
ence you  lived  in  another  world,  away 
from  the  commonplace,  one  who  loved 
you  dearly  in  return,  one  with  whom 
you  were  ideally  happy  and  away — ut- 
terly lonely?" 

Her  voice  had  fallen  to  a  low,  pen- 
sive note  and  her  little  hands,  torn  and 
bruised  from  their  recent  work,  were 
unconsciously  outstretched  to  me. 

' '  Most  twenty  years  ago, ' '  she  went 
on,  "in  a  small  town  down  on  the  Ohio 
Eiver  lived  two  little  children.  The 
boy  ten  the  girl  seven.  Together  they 
went  to  school;  he  carried  her  books, 
as  boy  lovers  have  from  time  imme- 
morial. Unlike  most  children,  they 
were  perfectly  happy  in  each  other's 
presence ;  a  group  of  other  children  to 
them  was  never  necessary.  This  state 
of  things  continued  with  the  two 
happy  children  until  one  day  the  girl  ?s 
mother  forbade  her  to  longer  be 
friendly  with  the  boy.  The  boy  was 
a  half-breed.  His  grandfather  had  been 


DAVE  AND  MARY  39 

a  chief  of  one  of  the  Illinois  tribes  and 
his  mother  a  Frenchwoman  of  gentle 
breeding.  This  command  saddened  the 
lives  of  the  two  little  lovers.  Five 
years  later  they  met  alone.  Tenderly 
he  embraced  her  and  bade  her  fare- 
well. He  besought  her  not  to  forget 
their  love;  some  day  he  would  return 
for  her  and  they  would  take  their  love 
to  a  distant  home.  In  a  tiny  locket  he 
carried  her  picture. ? ' 

Mary  sat  absorbed  in  memories,  all 
forgetful  of  my  presence.  The  soft 
evening  zephyrs  played  with  the 
leaves  above  us.  A  loon  in  the  distant 
woods  sounded  his  weird  cry.  Mary 
started  and  painfully  went  on : 

"  Years  passed  and  the  girl  grew  to 
young  womanhood.  With  her  was  ever 
the  spirit  of  her  Indian  lover." 

The  tender  lips  quivered  pitiably 
and  she  whispered  hoarsely: 

"They  told  her  that  her  lover  had 
passed  away.  Never  mind  how  she 
suffered.  Day  by  day  she  prayed  that 


40  DAVE  AND  MARY 

she  might  go  where  he  had  gone. 
Months  passed  and  the  girl's  father, 
through  an  unfortunate  investment, 
lost  all.  The  mother  prevailed  upon 
the  girl  to  marry  a  wealthy  suitor. 
What  mattered  then?  Dave  was  gone. 
?Twas  the  same  old  story.  Why  should 
she  not  repay  as  far  as  she  could  her 
parents'  devotion  to  her?  She  mar- 
ried. The  world  said  she  was  beauti- 
ful. Envied  by  those  less  fortunate  in 
the  things  of  this  life,  she  became  a 
social  queen.  Was  she  happy?  Ah, 
no.  Had  a  merciful  Fate  sent  her  chil- 
dren perhaps  she  could  have  been 
more  content,  but,  being  denied,  that 
seemed  part  of  the  crucible.  One  day 
something  stronger  than  herself  drew 
her  to  the  old  trysting  place.  In  the 
gray  shadows,  resting  against  the  dear 
old  tree,  was  a  form,  and  as  she  ap- 
proached it  came  forth  to  her. 

"Mary!" 

"Then  she  was  in  his  eager  arms. 
Needless  to  say  more.  Two  lives  were 


DAVE  AND  MARY  41 

broken  forever  through  the  deed  of 
those  who  thought  they  were  befriend- 
ing them.  They  never  met  again  un- 
til you  brought  me  out  from  the  sta- 
tion six  weeks  ago." 

She  fell  on  her  knees  and  clasped  my 
hands,  begging  pitiously  to  be  allowed 
to  remain.  I  raised  her  to  her  feet. 
The  days  of  my  youth  came  before  me. 
How  could  I  refuse  her!  But  the 
world,  what  would  it  have  to  say? 
They  would  never  believe  in  Dave  and 
Mary  as  I  did.  From  the  darkened 
woods  came  the  lone  call  of  the  whip- 
poor-will.  Mary  was  crying  softly. 
Despite  whatever  my  heart  longed  to 
do  my  better  judgment  came  to  the 
fore. 

"Mary,  God  knows  from  the  depths 
of  my  heart  I  would  like  to  grant  your 
request,  but  I  cannot.  An  irretrievable 
wrong  has  been  done  to  you  and  Dave, 
though  there  is  but  one  way  now.  You 
must  go  back  to  your  husband.  The 
world  sets  its  standard,  you  must  live 


42  DAVE  AND   MARY 

up  to  it.  She  had  turned  ashy  white 
and  stood  trembling  before  me.  Sud- 
denly clutching  the  light  wrap  about 
her  and  with  a  low  moan,  she  turned 
and  fled  down  the  steep  incline  and 
was  lost  in  the  darkness. 

Fancy  my  surprise  when,  on  going 
to  the  fields  the  next  morning,  to  find 
no  trace  of  Dave.  I  went  to  his  cot- 
tage. His  wife  told  me  calmly  that 
Dave  and  Mary  had  gone  together  on 
the  midnight  train. 

"A  love  like  theirs  is  found  once  in 
a  life  time,"  she  said  quietly,  "pity 
and  forgive. ' ' 

I  turned  and  walked  away.  The  for- 
est stifled  me.  I  sought  relief  in  a  rest- 
ful canyon.  Seated  011  a  boulder,  I 
cried  aloud  in  keen  disappointment : 

' '  Dave,  why  did  you  not  have  more 
strength  of  character  I  Why  did  you 
destroy  the  trust  I  had  in  you?  Why 
have  you  brought  disgrace  upon  your 
wife  and  babies?  Why  have  you 
broken  the  most  sacred  law  of  God  and 


DAVE  AND  MARY  43 


maul  Then  this  love  of  yours  and 
Mary 's  was  not  holy,  as  I  pictured,  but 
only  the  ugly,  carnal  thing. ' ' 

Had  the  deed  been  done  by  my  own 
son  my  grief  could  not  have  been  more 
poignant. 

A  criptical  sensation  seemed  creep- 
ing through  the  massive  canyon.  From 
out  of  a  deep  recess  appeared  a  misty 
form.  The  apparition  grew  real.  An 
old  Indian  chief  stood  before  me.  He 
slowly  raised  his  right  hand  and  point- 
ed to  the  clear  morning  sky  above  us, 
and  from  his  lips  came  distinctly  these 
words : 

"Judge  not,  lest  ye  be  judged." 

The  mist  fell  slowly  away.  Tall, 
straight  and  nobly  stood  Dave  before 
me. 

"Dave!"  I  gasped. 

He  had  heard  my  accusing  cry  and 
the  distrust  had  wounded  him  beyond 
words. 

With  a  hurt  look  he  turned  and 
walked  up  the  old  trail.  So  this  was 


DAVE  AND  MARY 


the  real  man.  He  had  taken  his 
"Bosary"  to  the  silent  canyon  and 
there  had  offered  his  sacrifice.  A  wave 
of  shame  came  over  me.  Lifting  my 
eyes  to  the  Great  Judge,  I  prayed  that 
somewhere  in  a  better  world  would 
there  be  a  place  for  these  incompar- 
able lovers  —  Dave  and  Mary. 


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